Super Special: Babysitters' Vancouver Vacation!
by Edie Star
Summary: Claudia and the Baby Sitters head to the great white north!
1. Claudia

_Deer Alan,_

_Isn't this the most ausome postcard from the areport? I picked this one becuz it has pengwins, and pengwyns are from the north poal, and the north poal is in Canada, right? I shuld sine off, Mary Anne wants to trade seets. _

Luv, Claudia 

I put my pen and the postcard into my carry on bag (which was white denim covered in beaver shaped appliqués and totally fresh red sequins), and unbuckled my seatbelt. My friend Mary Anne was feeling planesick, and didn't want the window seat anymore. I, Claudia Kishi, was on a flight to Canada with seven of my closest friends, and my sister and her friend. We were going to have nearly three fun-filled weeks in Vancouver, and I was dressed for it. I had on a red wool coat, reminiscent of Mounties, and a pleated miniskirt made from a Canadian flag. I wore a garland of maple leaves wrapped around one leg. My hat was the best part. I took a stuffed polar bear and ripped the stuffing out before sewing ribbons to each of its legs, so I could tie it down under my chin. A lot of people can't wear unique outfits like that, but I'm an artist with silky black hair, and gorgeous almond shaped eyes. My boyfriend Alan once said I had a nice rack, but I'm not sure if he meant my chest, or the dish rack that I had incorporated into an outfit meant to show the true struggle of housewives. It was a great ensemble, I even had a fur trimmed apron and earrings shaped like spatulas.

I was going to miss Alan while I was in Canada, but I promised to write him postcards, even though I'm not too good at spelling. My sister Janine is the genius of the family. Her IQ is 180, and she's in university, even though she's only sixteen! In fact, Janine's brains are the reason we're going to Vancouver. She and her friend Caro (I think it's short for Caroline), were invited to a series of math seminars at the University of British Columbia. When our Dad found out, he called up his cousin Kenzo, and asked him to show Janine and Caro around town. Kenzo did better than that, he invited them to stay at his downtown penthouse! He's even richer than my friend Kristy's stepdad, who is a millionaire. I was jealous of Janine until Dad told me that Kenzo had invited me, too, and I could bring a friend.

Choosing a friend to take along was the hard part. When I was a member of the Babysitter's Club, I would have been expected to find a way to invite everyone. We had seven members, and even with my poor math skills, I know that's a lot of people. Finally, I decided to ask Mary Anne Spier to come along. Mary Anne is shy and really sensitive, but she's good to travel with even though she sometimes sounds like a walking travel guide. Her family's house burned down this year, and I figured that she needed to get away from all the stress. My grandma Mimi (who passed away last year), always said it was a good idea to relax and take care of yourself. I really miss Mimi, and how she used to talk slowly to me when I didn't understand things. Mary Anne talks slowly to me, too, so it's nice to have her around.

Inviting Mary Anne had its downside, though. She told her step-sister Dawn that we were going to the West Coast. Dawn lives in California with her dad, and is really a West Coast girl. She has long blonde hair, and blue eyes like the ocean. But don't talk about eating things from the ocean to Dawn, she's a vegetarian. She nearly flipped out when she found out that I hid beef jerky in my room, behind my collection of Nancy Drew mysteries. Dawn said that Vancouver was only a two-hour flight from California, and maybe she could join us. I asked Kenzo if I could bring two friends, and he said that it was okay.

Then Mary Anne told her best friend, Kristy. Kristy wanted to come and does not take no for an answer. I swear, that girl came out of the womb with a whistle in her mouth. Kristy also has a habit of inviting herself along on other people's vacations. This time, though, she invited members of the Babysitters Club, both past and present. Somehow, she managed to talk my dad into talking Kenzo into letting us all stay at his condo. Kristy is a born business woman, with a way of getting anyone to do anything. That's how I ended up on the plane with Kristy, Mary Anne, Mallory, Abby, Jessi, and Stacey. (Dawn would be meeting us at the airport in Vancouver).

I didn't think that Stacey would come along. We used to be best friends until we had a falling out over a guy, Jeremy. I broke up with him, but Stacey still seems annoyed with me. I think she just came because Canada is one of the few countries where she hasn't found LUV yet. She can get a little boy crazy sometimes.

The plane landed, and we all got ready to disembark. Janine tapped me on the shoulder. "Aren't you going to be a little warm in that wool coat?"

I rolled my eyes at her. "Sure, I was sweating at the airport in Stamford, but this is _Canada_. It's going to be freezing! I checked the weather, and it said that Vancouver was going to be 29 degrees this afternoon." I looked smugly at Janine, who was wearing a little yellow t-shirt. The genius hadn't been smart enough to check the weather so she could dress appropriately.

Janine gave me a smug look back. "Claudia," she said sweetly, "Canada uses Celsius instead of Fahrenheit. 29 degrees in Canada is like 85 back home."

I scowled at her. I can't believe she was already trying to ruin my vacation with math. If this was any indication of the rest of our trip, three weeks with Janine the Genius was going to be boring.


	2. Janine

_Mom and Dad,_

_Greetings from Vancouver! I cannot wait for the conferences coming up at the university. Did you know that the Museum of Anthropology is on the University campus? Caro and I might go see it tomorrow after the workshop on algorithms, and I'd like to ask Claudia to come with us. I think she'd really enjoy the native art._

_Your Daughter, Janine_

So, it wasn't the most exciting postcard, but it was all I had to say on my first night in Vancouver. I could have been studying the guide that the conference organizers sent out, but Claudia and all of her friends were obsessively writing postcards already and someone had thrust a handful of them at me and Caro.

Vancouver is beautiful. The airport is on an island just outside of the city, and as the plane landed, we got a stunning view of the Pacific Ocean. The airport itself is bright and airy, and we all took in the view of the mountains from the large windows. Since there were so many of us Kenzo and his wife Navi, along with her nephew came in three SUVs to pick us up.

I couldn't believe how handsome he was. Raj was about eighteen, tall with broad shoulders, dusky grey eyes, and black hair. Most people see me as a shy and dowdy bookworm, as someone who wouldn't be interested in boys. That may be true most of the time, but I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Of course, I don't believe in predestined meetings or love at first sight, but I had to admit that I was feeling a little giddy when I saw what his t-shirt said: "There are 10 types of people. Those who know binary and those who don't." It was a juvenile computing joke, but I felt an odd blush creep into my cheeks. I didn't want him to notice me looking at him, so I buried my face in a copy of Scientific American. I peeked over the top of the page, only to notice Claudia trying to engage Raj in flirtatious small talk.

"I only notice two types of people," Claudia said, simpering a little and looking absolutely ridiculous with that polar bear on her head. Claudia is a bright girl; she just needs to outgrow her predilection toward acting and looking like a child. "But math isn't really my strong suit. There's more than two types of people if your shirt says ten, right?"

Stacey McGill winked at Raj. She's really quite good at math, so I was hoping for her to explain the joke to Claudia. I guess she really is the "man-stealing bitch" that Claudia said she is, because Stacey leaned over to show Raj her cleavage. "I know something we can do with binary. Maybe we could put your one and my zero together, if you understand my meaning?"

I nearly slapped my hand to my forehead. I could hear Caro groan behind me. That is the sort of pick up line that first year computer science students make when they get drunk at parties. I started to wonder if Stacey had been drinking on the plane. I quickly remembered that she had diabetes, and that drinking could kill her. _If the obvious lack of oxygen to the brain that prompts jokes like that doesn't kill her first_, I thought a bit snarkily.

We split up into the SUVs. Caro, Kristy, Jessi, and I went with Kenzo. Now we're at his condo in the West End.

Caro kissed the postcard that she recently finished, leaving big red lipstick prints on it. "I'm done!" she announced happily.

Caro is an interesting character. I wouldn't expect myself to be friends with someone as brash and bold as she is, but life has a way of being a surprise. We met in a first year chemistry lab. "Nice skirt" she said to me.

I had shrugged. It was my everyday, boring plaid kilt. Besides, I was afraid of her. She exuded a crass exuberance and beauty, with out-of-control red hair, and a wide smile.

"The whole schoolgirl look is very hot," she said. "I'm Caro. Just like the syrup, sweet and sticky." She noticed a book peeking out of my bag. "War and Peace? I loved it! Want to get a coffee and talk about it?"

I tried to resist. However, my excuses were weak, and I ended up at a coffee house just outside Stoneybrook U. Caro presented fascinating and strong arguments, and I enjoyed listening to her talk. We spoke about out favourite books, and I found myself opening up to her. We ended up taking a Calculus course together this past semester, and would often study together. When the chance to go to the North American Mathematics Symposium in Vancouver came up, we both applied. Stoneybrook University was sending two students, and Caro and I were chosen. I couldn't wait to go to the University and hear famous mathematicians speak about the greatest theories of our time.

"I'm going to bed" Caro sighed. "We have a long day tomorrow." She unrolled her sleeping bag on the floor of the room that we were sharing with Claudia, Mary Anne, and Abby.

"Don't turn out the lights yet" said Claudia, who was spreading clothes out on the floor so that she could plan tomorrow's outfit. "I need to find something to represent the snowy mountains."

"How about white sequined pasties?" Abby asked jokingly. Mary Anne turned beet red.

"Hmmm… I wish that Stacey and I weren't fighting so that I could borrow a pair," Claudia said thoughtfully.

I didn't want to hear any more chatter from my sister's weird friends. "What book are you reading?" I politely asked Caro once she was in her sleeping bag.

Caro gave me one of her odd looks, the one where her eyelashes flutter like she has a particle of something in her eye. "The poetry of Sappho," she said huskily, almost like she was coming down with a cold. "It's extremely…evocative."

"I'm sure it is," I said. For all of the "geeky" labels applied to me, I'm not really much of a literature buff. I wasn't sure what Sappho had written, but I at least knew it was Greek.

"Do you want to climb into my sleeping bag so that I can read some to you?" Caro asked.

"Not particularly. I should figure out which workshop we are attending tomorrow." I took the conference guide from my backpack, and cracked it open, hoping to be familiar with the itinerary before tomorrow morning.

Caro and I arrived at the campus bright and early so that we could sign in. We ended up in line behind a familiar young man. He turned to me, and I nearly asphyxiated. I hadn't expected _him_ to be here.

"Janine, right?" Raj said. "It's good to see a familiar face. Which workshop are you going to?"

The adrenaline rush was indescribable. "I think Caro and I are headed to the demonstration of a new software used to calculate algorithms used in medicine." I was barely able to coherently string those words together.

"That's too bad, I'm going to the one on practical applications of the Mobius inversion formula. How about we meet for lunch in the Student Union Building afterward?"

I felt lighter and happier than I had in a while. It was nice to have a date, even though I don't measure my self-worth by the attentions of others. I noticed that Caro looked a little jealous, so I invited her to come with us. If she liked Raj too, I didn't mind.


	3. Mallory

_Dear Ben, _

_Canada is totally dibble. Did you know that they have maple syrup donuts here? We'll have to make a "library date" when I get back to Stoneybrook, and check out a book on donut-making. I'm sorry that I didn't get to see you in between coming back from boarding school and leaving on vacation, but Mom and Dad were pretty insistent that I should have a proper vacation and that I'd be bored sitting around the house._

_Your friend, Mallory_

_P.S. I have a big surprise for you when I see you again!_

I did have a big surprise for my almost-boyfriend, Ben Hobart. However, that surprise wasn't something that I could wrap up and send with a postcard, like a box of smoked salmon or a toy moose. The surprise was going to be the All-New Mallory Pike, a Mallory Pike who had mastered the Art of Loving.

I know that I have declared that I would reinvent myself on multiple occasions, but this time was different. I had seen an ad in the back of a newspaper on my first night in Vancouver, and found myself intrigued. "The Art of Loving" it read, in big swirly letters. "Workshop for kinky pony people." I supposed they had left out a word, and had meant to say, "Kinky-haired pony people." (I am a writer, and have an eye for spelling mistakes and editorial blunders. My sister Vanessa sent me a poem last month, and I tore into her for changing verb tense part way through. I would never make a mistake like that in one of my stories about talking mice.) My heart soared at the sight of this ad. I was kinky-haired (my hair is a giant tangle of red curls, and my parents won't let me straighten it), and a pony person. Just a few days ago, Jessi and I had jumped around my backyard, neighing and trotting, and unintentionally frightening Mrs. McGill.

Admittedly, I did need a course in the art of loving. In my year of dating Ben, we had never gone past first base (brushing elbows as we perused the card catalog at Stoneybrook Library). I was hoping to go all the way, and have dreamed many times about a beautiful kiss (with tongue!) under the stars.

The only catch was that the ad said that the workshop was restricted to people over the age of eighteen. I could have just forgotten about it, and asked Stacey for advice. She knows more about LUV than anyone else. However, Stacey doesn't like horses very much. The ad haunted me with its promise of understanding my obsession with horses. Maybe they would teach how to cultivate the type of love that a jockey has for their horse, but between a man and a woman. I had to find a way to attend.

Inspiration struck at dinner that night. I noticed that Janine's friend Caro had hair like mine. As unethical as it was, perhaps I could borrow her photo ID and pretend to be eighteen, like her. I was a bit afraid to ask, because Caro seems totally chilly. (Chilly is a word my friends and I made up, it means that something is awesome. Dibble and acute are synonyms, and stale is the opposite.) She was wearing a really great t-shirt with a rainbow and a purple triangle across the chest. It looked almost like the cover of Dark Side of the Moon. Her obviously acute taste in music intimidated me a little, but I finally approached her with my plan.

"I won't be using it, since I'm up at the university all day" Caro said generously as she handed over the card. "If you think that you can pass for eighteen, go for it."

That was the catch. Even with my clear braces (which are so much more grown up than pink ones, or even glow in the dark), I still look like I am eleven. Some days I look extra mature, like I'm twelve. I can't wait until I'm thirteen, so that I can try and pass for fifteen, like Claudia does.

Claudia! That was the key. I knew that with her stunning fashion sense, we could transform me from a sow's ear to a silk purse. (Seriously, Claudia once made a purse from some pigs' ears that she'd picked up at the pet store, and even though it didn't turn into silk, it still looked fabulous!)

"Eighteen?" Claudia said, tapping her chin with a paintbrush. She was hard at work painting a mountainscape across the knees of a pair of Capri pants. "I don't know, Mal. Even Stacey has a hard time passing for eighteen, and she's got that New York sophistication and a cold sore in the corner of her mouth. She looks like she's been around."

I had never heard Claudia sound so bitter before. Although, I supposed that I'd sound bitter if Stacey had designs on Ben. "We could at least try a makeover" I begged. "And we don't even have to dye my hair this time." What a disaster my last makeover had been! Let's just say that blonde hair and Mallory Pike don't mix.

Claudia's eyes lit up, like I knew they would. She would be the artist, and I her canvas. She stood me in front of a full length mirror, and started to grab handfuls of my hair, trying to find a gorgeous and mature style somewhere in the mess.

My adventure in fake ID was just beginning. "Goodbye, Mallory Pike" I whispered to myself. "Hello, Caroline O'Reilly."

- - - - - - - - - - -

While the others were at the aquarium, Claudia and I went out to find me a stellar new wardrobe. (Claudia told me to stop saying "dibble." "Stellar" sounds much more mature.) We stopped at several second hand stores, and Claudia chose a pair of knee high PVC boots for me, with three inch heels.

"I don't think I'll be able to walk in these" I fretted, eyeing the improbably steep body of the shoe.

Claudia threw them into her basket, along with a sombrero for herself. "If you want to look older, you need to walk the walk."

Our next stop was a bargain basement fabric store on the east side. Claudia stocked up on discounted pompoms, sequins, ribbon, and zippers. "It's all about the embellishment" she said, holding up a sequined horse appliqué. "We'll put this on one of the cowboy shirts I picked up, and you can wear it to your pony meeting. Being fashionably daring is all about having a theme." I took a note of that. It would be my mantra through what I hoped would be a stunning metamorphosis.

There was one place on my list that Claudia hadn't thought of. I wanted new glasses. I carried my prescription with me in hope of getting a new pair. Maybe we could find a stellar pair that would make me appear more mature. My parents would never let me have contacts, but they couldn't object to a new pair of glasses, especially if I paid for them myself. As the oldest of eight kids, I'm responsible like that. I scanned the many pairs available. Even if I had to spend most of my vacation money, I wanted to be beautiful.

"Horn rims" Claudia said. "Horn rims are cool, and they make you look older. Think of Mary Anne's dad. He looks old."

With her help, Claudia and I chose a pair of horn rimmed glasses. I wanted brown frames, but Claudia said that red would be more glam. Claudia knows glam (her black high tops trimmed with red sequins and marabou feathers were causing quite a few stares!), so those were the ones I chose. Lucky for me, they were on sale! We had some doughnuts at a doughnut store called Tim Horton's, which was named after a hockey player. I'd have to remember to tell the triplets about it, they love sports and food. My glasses were ready to be picked up in an hour, and I placed them in my purse. I didn't want to put them on until the makeover was complete.

We went back to Kenzo's chilly apartment, which really was chilly because someone had forgotten to turn off the air conditioner. Claudia set to work, and surrounded herself in a circle of puff paint, thrift store clothes, and glitter. I knew that magic would come from these humble tools. As Lord of the Rings taught us, power could come from the smallest of things. I wouldn't have an elven ring though; I'd have a mini skirt to wear with my horse shirt and sexy boots.

Claudia shepherded me into one of the bedrooms when she was done, and I tried on my new outfit. Claudia flitted around me like a hummingbird, energized from Tootsie rolls. She applied full makeup, including some fake eyelashes. "Cover your eyes" she commanded. I was careful not to smudge the glittery green eyeliner. Claudia led me to a mirror, and moved my hand away from my eyes, and slid my glasses onto my face.

I was shocked. Was that Mallory Pike staring back at me from underneath all of those sequins and that sparkly makeup? I could barely recognize myself. The horse appliqué and tailoring of the cowboy shirt almost gave me the illusion of a bust line. The boots were awkward, but they made my formerly stocky frame look almost statuesque. Claudia looked at me in approval. Look out pony people, here comes Mallory Pike!


	4. Kristy

_Hey David Michael,_

_I hope that you and Andrew are keeping up your batting practice. Don't tell him I said this, but he has pretty weak arms for a four year old. Anyway, I was a bit sad the other day, because I found out that baseball isn't really a popular pastime in Vancouver. I did find my new passion though: Hockey! Sharpen your skates, because when I get back in town we'll get everyone together and I'll show you how to play!_

_And before you ask, yes, hockey looks like a violent sport, but the skill and discipline required make it an art. That means that it's not an excuse to beat Karen with a stick._

_Your sister,_

_Kristy_

On my first morning in Vancouver, all I wanted to do was put on my baseball cap and toss a ball around with someone. I love sightseeing, but the long flight left me worn out, and I just wanted to relax. That's unusual for me, because I'm usually on the go and organizing activities. I'm known around Stoneybrook for my great ideas. However, today I thought a great idea would be to enjoy a game of catch at the nearby beach. I asked Abby, but she had plans to go to the aquarium with Mary Anne, Dawn, Jessi, and Stacey. I even tried asking Claudia, because she didn't want to go to the aquarium with the others. She mumbled something about Stacey overpowering the smell of the fish. I thought it was a weird thing to say, because Stacey always smells like hairspray and suntan lotion. Speaking of smells, I sniffed my armpits. I needed some Speed Stick.

I bumped into Mallory on my way to get my deodorant out of my backpack. She didn't want to play catch, either. She looked at her feet and muttered something about getting Claudia to give her a makeover. I wanted to tell her to stop and think about her actions, because she gave herself a makeover the time we won the lottery and went to California. Every time I hear the words "Mallory" and "makeover" in the same sentence, it brings up the image of Mallory looking like a forty year old drag queen. She's kind of stocky, so she'll probably look like that in thirty years anyway. That's one of the reasons I don't like makeup. Sure, it makes some people like Stacey and Claudia look hot, but it makes people like me (and especially Mallory) look worse. Besides, it's so gunky and gross feeling.

I'm not normally one to mope, but I ended up standing around in the kitchen feeling sorry for myself. Kenzo's wife came into the room, and took an energy bar from one of the cabinets.

"Doesn't anyone around here play baseball?" I asked her. Maybe I could find a pick up game at a park somewhere.

Navi looked thoughtful. "I have some nieces your age, but none of them play softball until Autumn. I think a lot of the athletic girls play hockey in the summer, because it's so cool at the ice rink. One of the rinks has a drop-in girls' hockey session. I can drop you off on my way to work if you'd like. Grab a sweatshirt, and we can go."

I wasn't sure if I wanted to play hockey, but it sounded better than the aquarium with Dawn-the-animal-rights-crusader, or witnessing Claudia play Frankenstein with Mallory. I hadn't brought a sweatshirt of my own, but I knew that Claudia had packed a few because she had thought that Canada would be ice cold. I rummaged through one of her many suitcases, and came up with a red hoodie that had a black K painted on the back. I remembered when she had made it in sixth grade, mistakenly believing that the K stood for 'Claudia.' I cringed a little at her mistake. It's always important to proofread your work. At least Jessi had destroyed Claudia's other misspelled hoodie, the white one that had her logo of three K's that stood for 'Klaudia Kishi Kreation.' She had said that Claudia was being racist, but I don't understand what is so racist about bad spelling. Jessi is a little weird about racism sometimes. At least the sweater was set on fire, so we didn't have to look at Claud's embarrassing spelling in public. People stared uncomfortably at Claudia whenever we went to the mall, because they knew all those words were spelled wrong and I guess they didn't want to tell her. (By the way, Jessi is black. It doesn't matter to us, because she could be purple, and she'd still be a great friend!)

Navi dropped me off at the rink, and I rented a pair of skates. I'm not too good at hockey, but I can skate really well.

A few girls were already skating. One of them called out to me, "If you're here to figure skate, Shorty, you're in the wrong place."

Even though I am the shortest girl in the eighth grade at Stoneybrook Middle School, I cannot stand being called Shorty. I stood a little straighter, trying to look tough.

"What does the K stand for? Kiddo?" asked another.

"Aw, leave her alone," said another. The girl skated over to me. She was tall, and built like a refrigerator. "They call me Big Mel."

I was glad to be included by the person they all regarded as their leader (I wanted to be a part of their impromptu team, because I like teamwork and the things it can accomplish), but I didn't want Big Mel's sympathy. Pity makes me uncomfortable.

"Kristy" I said, by way of introduction.

"Hey, everyone, this is Kris," Big Mel called out. I cringed. I cannot stand being called Kris. I'd almost rather be called Kristin, which is my full name.

"I go by Kristy," I told her firmly. Using a firm voice usually gives me control of the situation. It didn't this time. Mel's voice was even firmer.

"Look, we want to eventually play against the boys" Mel said. "If you were a guy, you'd laugh your ass off if Melanie, Jacqueline, and Kristina invited you to a face-off. Mel, Jack, and Kris would be taken much more seriously."

"Kristin" I mumbled. Mel had a point. Sexism in sports is a sore point with me. I'm tired of guys thinking they can out run, out pitch, and out tackle me when I am clearly the superior athlete.

"If you can skate, you can join us," said a girl who called herself Alex.

I snapped my shoulders back. I love a challenge, and I could taste the sweet juice of victory when I imagined winning against a team of boys. This was bragging rights, this was pure competition, and this was war.

"By the way," I called out to the girl who had asked me what was on my shirt, "The K is for Krusher!" as I skated away to grab a stick.

- - - - - - - - -

My muscles ached terribly on the bus ride back to Kenzo's. We would need a lot of work, and some discipline as well to perform as a team. I wished that I had brought my playbooks from the heyday of the Krushers. I was sure that I could apply the principles of baseball to hockey. Baseball is the ultimate life metaphor.

When I arrived at Kenzo's, things were in a state of disorder. Mallory looked like she had poured glue on herself and rolled around in Claudia's room. Stacey and Dawn had disappeared from the aquarium, and hadn't returned for dinner. Jessi was saying something about the beluga whales being racist because they wouldn't live in the same tank as the orcas, and Janine was trying to explain to her that they were different species and not just different colours. Mary Anne was crying because she and Dawn had an argument before Dawn ran off, and Abby was making Groucho Marx faces to try and comfort her. Claudia was gorging herself from a box of doughnuts, dribbling crumbs down her pleated smock. It made me sad to see them like this. If we were all still members of the Baby Sitters Club, I could have blown my whistle and called them to order. Sadly, the club was disbanded so I had no real jurisdiction, and I had forgotten my whistle at home.

I went into the other room and lay on my sleeping bag. I tossed a baseball from one hand to the other, more determined to make a success out of our hockey team. But first, I needed a new whistle.


	5. Dawn

_Dear Sunny,_

_Here I am in Vancouver! It's not as nice as California, but I can still feel the West Coast vibe. Did you know that they don't allow smoking in restaurants here? That would go a long way toward reducing lung cancer. Maybe your mom should have lived here._

_Love and Sunshine,_

_Dawn_

"Did you know that there are over sixty-thousand animals that live at the Vancouver Aquarium?" asked Mary Anne as we stood in line to enter. She was reading some travel guide that she had picked up. That's what Mary Anne does on vacation, when she's not busy getting sunburned. Lucky for me, I have a perfect California tan that looks great with my long long blonde hair and blue eyes. I noticed that my step-sister was looking a little jetlagged. Fortunately, after flying across the country so often, flights have become so commonplace that I don't feel so exhausted when I land. Being bicoastal is hard, but being immune to jetlag is a big advantage to that lifestyle.

"Don't you think that's kind of cruel to the animals?" I asked her. I'm a vegetarian, and I also like to consider myself an animal activist. None of my East Coast friends really understand. Sometimes it's more difficult being an individual than it is being bicoastal.

"Fish have the attention span of Alan Gray" said Stacey. "I don't think it matters one way or the other."

I glared at Stacey. What did she know about animal rights or the environment? She was wearing a leather belt, and enough hairspray to start her own hole in the ozone layer right over Stoneybrook.

"Dawn is suspicious about keeping animals cooped up" said Abby. I almost had respect for her until she made one of the awful puns that she's known for. "She thinks there's something fishy about the aquarium."

Nobody thought it was funny, except for Jessi who snorted. Sometimes eleven year olds can be so immature.

Once we were in the aquarium, things weren't much better. Mary Anne was exclaiming over all of the "cute" animals.

"If by 'cute', you mean 'oppressed'" I muttered under my breath. Jessi nodded in agreement. She knows all about oppression.

I sulked a little by a tank filled with manta rays while Abby and Mary Anne went into a gift shop outside the Children's Zone. I thought about the sad lives the rays must live, trapped inside that glass tank.

"The noble manta ray" said a voice behind me. "Taken from its natural habitat and forced to be a sideshow."

I turned and locked eyes with a boy about fifteen years old, with sandy blonde hair. It wasn't California blonde, but it was still nice.

"I sometimes wonder how we as people can consider other animals to be inferior, and keep them caged" he continued.

"I completely agree with you" I said. "By the way, I'm Dawn Schafer."

"Cameron Milne" he said, shaking my hand.

I was feeling flirtatious. "It's always good to meet someone who is on the side of the animals."

"Actually, I'm the president of a local animal rights group called Lobster Liberation," he told me. "We go to grocery stores and free live animals from the death tanks. We're always looking for like-minded people to help." As Claudia would say, oh my Lord. A cute activist was trying to pick me up. Before I could answer though, a voice spoke up from nearby.

"I'd love to" said Stacey. "Lobsters deserve to be free."

"Excuse me," I said to Cameron from between gritted teeth. "Stacey, I need to use the washroom. Will you come with me, because girls always go to the washroom together?" I hoped she got the hint. She did. Jessi came along, too.

"I'll meet you back here" Cameron called out to me.

We passed through the gift shop on our way to the washroom, and Mary Anne and Abby joined us. They had bought hand puppets, and were showing them off to Jessi.

"Isn't mine cute?" Mary Anne said of her otter. "I'm going to name him Oscar the Otter."

Abby used her alligator puppet to poke me in the belly. "Num num, California roll!" she said. I was offended. My stomach is flatter than hers. A vegetarian diet would definitely help Abby take off those extra pounds.

Once we were in the washroom, Stacey asked me a question that offended my activist and vegetarian sensibilities. "You could teach me how to be a vegetarian so I can get a date with Cameron. I think this might be LUV."

I decided to set Stacey straight. "No way, he's mine. Besides, you aren't an animal activist. I've seen you eat lobster!"

Stacey shrugged. "I'm a diabetic. There aren't many things that I can eat, and lobster is one of those things."

"I wish you'd stop using your diabetes as an excuse" I said to her.

"I could die!" she yelled, a bit too dramatically.

"Because giving up lobster would make your blood sugar plummet, and put you in a coma" I hollered snidely.

"Whatever," said Stacey. "You can have Cameron. I'm going to go downtown and find the shopping district, so I can meet a guy who is sophisticated. Activists _smell_. That rock salt deodorant isn't doing you any favors, Dawn. And you might want to shave your armpits as well," she added, before flouncing out of the bathroom.

"What are you crying about?" I asked Mary Anne, although I already knew the answer. Mary Anne cries whenever anyone raises their voice.

"You and Stacey aren't friends any more" she sobbed.

I rolled my eyes. "Stacey and I never really were close friends" I tried to explain, but Mary Anne cried harder. "How would you feel if she went after Logan?" I immediately regretted saying that, because I had forgotten that Mary Anne and Logan had broken up. I didn't really pay much attention to Mary Anne on the phone when she called, it was all cute this, and baby sitting that, and talk about the house burning down. I guess I must have tuned out when she was talking about Logan.

"I miss Logan!" she cried. "I know that it was good for me to leave him, but I miss him so much!"

"I'm going to find Cameron" I said before stepping out of the washroom. I left Abby and Jessi to comfort Mary Anne. Some stepsister I am.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Cameron took me to a vegetarian café on Commercial Drive. Commercial Drive is a neat neighborhood, with plenty of vegetarian restaurants, organic groceries, and little hippie boutiques. We sat together at a picnic table and shared an order of vegan nachos. (Cameron is a vegan. Isn't he dedicated to the cause?) Cameron told me a little more about Lobster Liberation, and I definitely wanted to help even though it sounded dangerous. He gave me his phone number, and asked me to meet him again for fair-trade coffee. I noticed that it was after nine o'clock, so Cameron walked me to the bus stop and gave me directions back to Kenzo's. He gave me a big hug before I got on the bus, and I was floating on cloud nine all the way back to the condo.

When I let myself in at around ten, I could hear Stacey and Claudia arguing in the kitchen. I pressed myself against the wall, using my best ghost-hunting techniques to stay quiet and hear what they were saying.

"I saw how you went after Raj, when you noticed that I clearly liked him first" said Claudia. It was good to know that Stacey had a track record of this sort of thing.

"Claudia, I'm not going to steal boyfriends any more" Stacey said. Boy, was that a lie! "I'm filled with religion now!"

"You're filled with lies!" Claudia said bitterly. She must have taken that line from a Nancy Drew book.

I managed to sneak past the kitchen doorway and into one of the bedrooms. I didn't want to think about Stacey being a boyfriend stealer any longer. I wanted to think about how to save the lobsters, make my own vegan nachos, and win Cameron's heart.


End file.
